


'til death do us part

by AppleJuice (capolleon)



Series: 6 weeks [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mentions of Death, Multi, Post-The Hidden Oracle, during that 6 week break between tho and tdp, except apollo according to him he's fine, idk everyone needs a hug, just some talking, talk of godliness and death and live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:38:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12520040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capolleon/pseuds/AppleJuice
Summary: Although perhaps, maybe theydoneed the talk. Gods have hundreds of years worth of baggage, and Leo’s potentially suicidal.





	'til death do us part

**Author's Note:**

> the original authors note had some really chaotic energy lol :')
> 
> nevertheless, this was the fic where i realized i wanted to make this a series. basically to summarize what i had before, but not in a totally wild and weird way, i'm blatantly am going to disregard rick's bs and am just going to pretend this is strictly a capolleo (+meg) adventure. fun!
> 
> we will see how it turns out.... :)

Apollo finds Leo with his legs folded up to his chest, and his head on his knees. His face is streaked with oil and dirt, and he smells suspiciously like Tabasco. He’s sitting on the edge of the cliff, eyes trained on what he can see of a small town in the middle of the state of Pennsylvania.

Apollo sits next to him, kicking his feet over the edge of the cliff. In the night light, he can see the smoke wafting off from Calypso who’s cooking some type of gumbo. It doesn’t smell great enough for Apollo’s mouth to water, but his stomach growls nevertheless.

“Uh,” Apollo awkwardly pats Leo on the back. He knows that the demigod is having one of his “downtimes”, but doesn’t know what to do. Normally Apollo made people smile effortlessly with his dashing looks, but as Lester Papadopoulos, there is no hope.

“People become constellations, right?” Leo finally says. He sits his chin on his knees, as he gazes upward. His voice lacks his usual pep. “Good people, normally. Percy once told me a story about a girl he knew.”

“Er,” Apollo looks towards Calypso for help, but the girl is too involved in her food. He’s not exactly the stars expert (except for the big and obvious one normally in the sky), but he tries to think about what his sister might say. Something wise and vague. “Maybe.”

...Not exactly what he was going for.

Leo’s eyes slide towards Apollo. “If you loved someone, would you turn them into stars?”

“Plants are more of my thing,” Apollo has wild thoughts of running through fields, and flowers and trees. “Which I’ve done a few times. Kind of famous for it, actually.”

Leo nods and turns back to the sky. Soft wind whistles through the air, and rustles through Leo’s hair. “Would you do it? If Meg dies. Turn her into a flower that is.”

“She _is_ my master,” Apollo thinks the idea over. The snarky girl would turn into something big and explosive, a bright orange flower about the size of full-grown sunflowers. It would attract bugs, but its buds would be poisonous. Very fierce in the wilderness, except it would need lots of nurturing and care. Very like Meg.

And like Meg, the flower would need lots of sunshine. Lots of Apollo to guide her the right way.

“What about you?” Apollo leans back, his palms digging in the dirt. “Have anyone special?”

Leo thinks for only a quick second. “My mom. She would be a million stars sprinkled everywhere.”

“She must be amazing,” Apollo says. He has very fond memories of his own mother, Leto, as she tried to take care of twins. “Where is she?”

Leo stares at Apollo. “Somewhere in the stars, maybe.”

Apollo slides away. He goes to Calypso, who is quietly dishing out food in three bowls. Calypso’s hair is tied back, with the knees of her jeans covered in dirt. She’s humming an ancient tune that Apollo hasn’t heard before. If anything, he would’ve thought it to be a spell.

“No powers yet?”

“Jeez!” Calypso drops a bowl, and whirls around to see Apollo. “Apollo.”

“Calypso,” Apollo nods at her. He peers curiously at the pot of bubbling food. “Smells good.”

“It better. It’s raccoons and mice, a delicacy originating from New York subways.”

Apollo tries not to let his disgust show as he steps away. He will never understand the disgusting things humans would force themselves to do.

Calypso laughs. “I’m joking. It’s beef stew.”

They eat silently together next to a slumbering Festus. Leo hadn’t felt hungry, so Calypso left the bowl next to him. Leo still stays at his position at the edge of the cliff.

“How did you burn the broth?” Apollo smacks his lips loudly.

Calypso sucks her teeth. “If it’s such a problem _you_ could cook in the morning. You haven’t made a single meal for us.”

“I did that one time,”

“You burnt the toast. Not even the ants wanted it.” Calypso collects the bowls and puts it to the side. She rubs her stomach, and lets out a huge burp. “Excuse me.”

“Gross.” Apollo crosses his legs and bounces his folded knees up and down. Is this the anxious energy that houses itself in Leo? He watches as Calypso tucks another hair behind her ear, and winces. “Come ‘ere.”

“What?”

Apollo spreads his legs and pats the space in between. In the campfire glow, Apollo can see the hesitation and realization flicker over her face. “Let me braid your hair for you.”

Calypso hesitantly sits herself in between his legs, as she shakes her hair out. She warns, “Be careful of tangles.”

Apollo sets to work, with his hands combing through dirty strands. None of them have taken showers since their Camp Half-Blood departure, which was a week ago. Due to being surrounded by the smell of three stinky teenagers, the stench is far from noticeable at this point.

“He’s doing it again,” Calypso observes quietly. She picks at her nail decidedly, as she stares at Leo. Apollo pauses his braiding to look over her head.

“Thinking? I thought Valdez was impulsive. Don’t think is his motto or something.”

“Watch it there.” Calypso hisses and rubs her tender scalp. “He says that a lot, yes, but he _does_ think a lot. Mostly at night when he’s alone.”

Apollo shrugs. He doesn’t understand why anyone would want to be alone. Having fans adoring you, and people to succumb to your every beck and call is amazing. And even if you weren’t as popular as Apollo (who is?) dealing with other people is fun! They didn’t call Apollo the party god for nothing (even if Dionysus disagrees- but at least _Apollo_ doesn’t give alcohol to minors. Sometimes.)

“What’s he think about?” Apollo has nothing to tie the end with. He ties a bow with a carefully plucked strand of grass.

“Friends. Camp Half-Blood. His mom, his dad.” Calypso pulls the braid over her shoulder and nods approvingly. “Not people we would know. Except for Hephaestus, of course.”

Apollo picks at a clump of dirt on his arm. “My brother has spoken fondly of Leo. He’s one of the more… luckier ones to have someone watch over him so much. I wouldn’t be surprised if Heph is looking at Leo right now.” Apollo’s mind flickers to the many campers at Camp Half-Blood. They were all abandoned and left without hearing much from their parents. Of course, gods are always busy, and simply don’t have much time for their children.

If anything, demigod lives are simply a dust speck compared to the life of a god. Apollo doesn’t even know how many of his children currently walk the earth because so many have passed without his knowledge.

Although, it feels a lot less lonely when you’re a god. He supposes people like that Hermes kid, Duke Castellan or whatever, might not be too fully wrong in their reasoning- gods do forget their children. And it sucks being abandoned.

“You’re my uncle.” Apollo looks up to see Leo standing over him. He seems a bit more Leo-like than earlier.

“Bleh. Please, don’t call me that.” Apollo sticks out his tongue. It’s in a very Leo fashion. Perhaps Apollo might be getting a bit too attached. “We’re not that related. If you’re my nephew, then your entire camp is filled with incest.”

“Sorry,” Leo sits next to Apollo. Calypso turns, to complete the tight circle. “You’re still my dad’s brother.”

“Hardly,” Calypso argues. “Hephaestus is a product of Hera and Zeus. Zeus is literally like one of those, er, _sperm banks_. None of his children are _related_ , per say.”

The ends of Leo’s mouth lift. “You’re Atlas’ daughter, right? Which’ll make you, uhh, my second cousin? Once removed.”

“What?” Calypso’s brows furrow. “What nonsense-”

“And that’ll make you Apollo’s second cousin.” Leo looks like he even confused himself. He relaxes and lets out a little laugh. “At least I understand the dating policies of Camp now. All the relating doesn’t make much sense.”

“What’s it say about dating a god?” Calypso leans against Leo. She stares at Apollo, who looks away.

“Dunno,” Leo murmurs. “Though I’m not sure exactly how many people have been in my particular position.”

“Not a lot,” Apollo admits, fiddling with grass strands. He closes his eyes, letting the night flow over him. “You’re a very special demigod, Leo.”

“Real special,” Leo rolls his eyes. He zips his jacket up to his chin. It’s a size too big for him. “Hey, can I ask you guys something? I know we promised not to talk about god stuff, even as much as Apollo ignores the rule-”

“I do not! I keep my promises!”

“Dude,” Leo snorts. “You love talking about yourself and the past.”

Apollo looks to Calypso for support, but as usual, she disappoints. The girl shrugs.

As Apollo continues to fume, Leo carries on. He looks more serious than the playful tone a few seconds ago. “You guys are immortal. Is it… Do you think it’s possible to love?”

“ _Leo_.” Calypso looks disturbed. The faux fur on her hood brushes her cheeks. “You might possibly just be asking the worst people in history about this.”

Leo looks disappointed. His hands are fidgeting in his lap. “I _know_ that. It’s just. I just think, you know?”

“We,” Calypso gestures to Apollo and herself, “are terrible with love. _His_ partners always run away from him. Gods, Leo, _everyone_ I fall in love with I have to let go.”

Apollo stays quiet. He has a very long list of partners running through his head, but he can’t really think of too many relationships that ended on good terms. He’s like that pop singer- the girl who sings about all her bad break-ups.

“I know.”

“Why?” Apollo unfolds his legs. They’re a bit long and stretch out in between Calypso and Leo, who both sit Indian style. “Are you in-”

“No,” Leo has an annoying habit of interrupting people. Normally Apollo would smack someone across the ocean for doing such a thing to him, but now he can barely even give a good high-five. “It’s my dad. He must’ve loved my mom, right? To have me.”

Calypso looks at Apollo. Apollo curses, because he’s the only one in the group who knows what it’s like to have children. He’s being pushed into the comforting role.

“Uh,” Apollo bites his lip. “It’s not always about love.”

Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say, because Leo looks down into his lap, and Calypso punches his shoulder with a glare.

“Leo,” Apollo tries to amend. “Being a god means love is hard to find. At least for me, anyway. There's millions of people in this world who would love to be the consort of an immortal being. So it has to, um, _mean_ something to have a child with them.”

Leo looks up. He looks heartbroken, with big and droopy eyes like a kicked puppy. “Then how come he didn’t save her? Save her from- from me? If he even _cared_ for her-” Leo holds his stare steadily ” -then he would have saved her. Wouldn’t you?”

There it is. Apollo can tell this is the big question Leo’s been waiting to ask. Apollo can physically feel Hephaestus solely depending on _Apollo_ to answer in his absence. It’s not fair, making Apollo curse Zeus again for putting him in this place.

It’s a tricky question. Even with the basics that Apollo knows surrounding Leo’s mother’s death, it’s too messy to understand completely. Though Apollo does know one thing: no one could’ve stopped it.

At the time, it wasn’t something Apollo even cared about. Who the hell was Esperanza Valdez? But now, nearly ten years later, the event is evidently still fresh in Leo’s mind. Apollo does wonder how much Hephaestus cared for the woman.

“Leo,” Apollo starts off. “I think your-”

“Hey.” Calypso interrupts, “If I had to, I would save the people I love without a single thought. Apollo’s done the same countless times. I’m sure you will too, and your father wanted to. But whatever happened, happened. I learned a long time ago to let some things go.”

No one says anything after that. Calypso gets up to tend the fire, and Leo checks back on Festus. The dragon had been having a few malfunctions recently.

Apollo goes to the ledge, staring down at the small city below. He wonders if perhaps Meg is down there somewhere, passing through the city. Maybe he has children down there, living normal lives or running for their lives.

From above, the town looks so small. It’s like the view from Olympus where people look like tiny dancing ants going about their day. The only difference is that _he’_ s now one of the ants he used to watch from above. It really puts things in perspective.

“Hey,” Apollo thinks this might be one of Calypso’s favorite slang words from these modern times. The Titaness sits and leans her head against Apollo’s shoulder. “You’ve got any powers back yet?”

“Nope,” Apollo says, throwing one arm around Calypso to pull her closer. “Not yet. I can’t wait for Zeus to end this punishment.”

Calypso sniffs. “At least your deadline is coming. I don’t think I’ll ever get back what I used to have. But, nothing beats mortality and freedom, eh?”

“You’re not funny.”

“Tough crowd.” Calypso lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t mind being with Leo and you, but there’s something about having _power_. It used to be apart of me, and now it’s gone.”

“I know.” Apollo feels the exact same way. Except maybe a bit jealous that Calypso kept her beauty and he’s just Lester Papadopoulos. It's a bit unfair.

“But do you?” Calypso sighs again. She yawns. “Do you _really_ know?”

No, Apollo realizes with a start. He couldn’t possibly understand what Calypso might be going through. _He_ wasn’t the one who had been left abandoned on an island, solely relying on powers that were snatched away at the first sight of freedom. _He_ will get his powers back, once he finds Meg and finishes this quest. _He_ will get his place back in Olympus, and pretend like the past few weeks haven’t happened.

“You know what Leo was going on about?” Calypso says. “I think he’s scared of dying. And I’m starting to feel it too.”

“He’s reckless and fearless,” Apollo furrows his brows. “I doubt he even thinks about dying.”

Calypso sits up, turns Apollo’s head to look at her. Her eyes reflect the night sky behind him. Her thin and delicate eyebrows dip down, and her forehead creases. Her cool hands grip Apollo’s tightly.

“He’s afraid of death,” She repeats. “Aren’t you?”

Apollo averts his eyes. He looks up when he hears footsteps approaching. It’s Leo in his winter jacket and ratty sneakers. He sits on the other side of Apollo, not even glancing at Calypso.

It’s quiet. Apollo isn’t sure exactly how much Leo’s heard, and how much he hasn’t. Calypso lets go of his hands. She folds in on herself and sits quietly in her own thoughts.

Leo finally clears his throat. “It’s not death I’m afraid of.”

“You’re not?” Calypso sounds genuinely surprised. “Isn’t that why you were asking about your father loving you, and your mother dying?”

“No?” Leo sounds confused. “Well- _gods,_ I don’t _know_! I mean, like, everyone is a bit afraid of dying, right? Losing everything, and leaving it all behind. Imagine all the shows I never got to watch. I'm still not even up to date on _Dr. Who._ ”

Truthfully, Apollo had never felt the fear of dying until recent. And it was _really_ recent. Even as he paraded through Camp Half-Blood’s maze of a woods with Meg, he hadn’t given much thought about how real he is. How _mortal_ and _fragile_ he is. When Apollo bleeds, it drips red.

“Oh _Leo,_ ” Calypso says, reaching over Apollo to grab Leo’s hand. “You _are_ afraid of dying.”

“Uh,” Apollo’s head flies back and forth between them. “I think he just said he wasn’t.”

“No.” Calypso frowns. “It’s not the actual death that bothers him. It’s what happens _after_.”

Leo doesn’t seem like he wants to answer, much less be in the conversation anymore. He falls back with a thump into the grass.

Calypso starts to explain. “It’s about, erm, if anyone will miss him when he dies. Like would anyone love him enough to care, am I right?”

“I’ve already died once,” Leo brings up.

Calypso lies down too, pushing Apollo down with her. “Are you agreeing or not, Leo?”

“Or.”

Calypso scowls and rolls her eyes. She tugs on Apollo to pay attention. “He doesn’t want to admit it, but I know there’s the fear _somewhere._ He’s scared that there might just be only one person to miss him, like how only he seems to remember his mom.”

“Oh.” Apollo doesn’t know why she’s telling him this. He doesn’t remember asking about it. “That’s stupid. Lots of people care for him. Spider, Mason-”

“-Piper, and Jason-”

“-And would clearly miss him,” Apollo frowns, “I think I would miss him too, even if we’ve known each other for only a few weeks. And you would, right?”

“Of course.”

“You guys know I’m still here, right?” Leo waves for attention. “Can we talk about something else? Let’s expose all of your fears real quick.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Calypso admits, even though it’s clear that Leo only said it to be irritating. “I’m interested in what Hot Shot over here is afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” Apollo folds his arms.

Leo rolls his eyes and Calypso makes a face. Apollo tries to defend himself if that’s the reaction he’s going to get.

“I don’t know. I’m not used to being afraid of things.” Apollo shrugs. “Maybe death. More acne. Death by hideousness would be terrible, right? Right.”

“That’s-” Leo pauses for dramatic effect, “-really stupid.”

“You’re really stupid.” Apollo’s been working on his comebacks. Based on the fact that Leo has nothing to say after that, Apollo could say he’s won this battle.

“If it helps, Leo,” Calypso yawns. “I might be afraid of death too. All of this is a lot to take in, after it all, I’m still going to be dead. And that’s the worst feeling in the _world_.”

“Hmm,” Leo’s fingers tap against his thigh. “You’ll get used to it. We demigods face it every minute of our lives.”

“And yet you’re a bit scared of it.” Calypso points out.

There’s a pause.

“I mean, I like, kind of _have_ to be. We’re all going to die eventually, it’s a fact of life.” Leo tries to explain. He groans out of frustration. “It’s like if you put a battery in a car. You _know_ it’s going to die on you eventually, but uh, you’re not sure when or how bad it’ll be.”

“I’ve never ridden in a car,” Calypso says bluntly.

Apollo shrugs. “The Sun is its own battery.”

“Ugh,” Leo lies down and groans. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m going to bed.”

“Good idea,” Apollo commends and lies down too. He hears Calypso huff from next to them.

“You guys can’t just quit when it’s getting hard for you to talk. We’ve got to get this all out eventually.”

Apollo thinks quite the opposite. This emotional baggage stuff isn’t important, and definitely not his first priority. This isn’t a retreat where the three of them can braid each other’s hair, and chat feelings (which might be the only things they do at this point). They have a rescue mission, and essentially a mission to save the world.

Although perhaps, maybe they _do_ need the talk. Gods have hundreds of years worth of baggage, and Leo’s potentially suicidal.

“Fine,” Apollo groans. “But later, okay? I’m tired and need my beauty sleep.”

“Good. Good night, then.” Calypso sounds happy with herself.

“Hey guys?” Leo mumbles. “I like you all sometimes. But shut up.”

Calypso presses her lips against Leo’s forehead. “Mm, you’re right. Shut up then.”

"I am."

"You're not."

"I am. Look at me. Shutting up."

" _Holy Hades_ , can both of you shut up?"

"...We are."

They fall asleep shortly after Apollo elbows Leo. It's a calm but restless sleep, as they cling to the hope for another day.

Apollo doesn't dream of anything but light and flickers of the Underworld. He's left with the question of life and the beating of his own heart. Even with his nearly guaranteed godhood resting on his shoulders, just out of reach, he has to ask himself the question that Leo's been mumbling in his sleep, and Calypso's too scared to utter.

_When will it all end?_

_*_

**Author's Note:**

> hope you have a good day!!! :)


End file.
